Another Wasted Night
by Jack meets Eric
Summary: [FINISHED!] Jack is drunk and trying to find his way home. When he arrives there, things take a different turn... [Reviews are still very much appreciated...]
1. Wasted

TITLE: Another Wasted Night  
  
AUTHOR: Magican  
  
RATING: PG-13, for explicit scenes later on.  
  
SUMMARY: Jack is drunk and trying to find his way home, When he arrives there, things take a different turn…  
  
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Boy Meets World, the characters, the scripts, yadiyadiyadada. Wish I could though, but then the show would be called 'Jack Meets Eric' and wouldn't be able to air on Disney Channel. ;)  
  
NOTE: Check out my Jack&Eric site? Check my profile…  
  
*****  
  
It was cold that night, as Jack tottered down the street. He didn't really notice it though, because the warmth of too much alcohol was still flowing richly through his body. He felt like a little oven, surrounded by an orb of heat. Heck, he felt like the sun itself! He *was* the sun!  
  
But… how could the sun shine in the middle of the night? It wasn't supposed to be… dark when the sun was shining. Jack got confused there for a moment. What…? Every thought seemed a bit clouded and unclear to him, as he couldn't think straight anymore. Deep down he knew he had pushed his limits and had too much whine, which made him all drowsy and bouncy at the same time - but he didn't really care.  
  
Jack laughed out loud as he continued to stumble across houses and offices. As long as he could find the way home, right?  
  
*****  
  
Two hours later, there was not much left to laugh about.  
  
Jack was still wondering down the streets. He had no clue where he was, how he ended up there or where he was going. Nothing looked the slightest bit familiar to him, and all he could distinguish was vague outlines of buildings and cars. His mind was still blurred and seemed able to producing only some incoherent thoughts.  
  
Finally, he identified a large grey garbage can. He slowly staggered over to it and sank down next to the smelly box. His head started to ache with an amazing frequency, and he was definitely feeling the cold, wet tiles as he sat down on them. He rested his back and head against the garbage can and closed his eyes. White flashes projected themselves on his eyelids, which drove his crazy. The awful smell of raw fish and cheese protruded his nostrils, causing him to choke.  
  
Being drunk sucked. Big time.  
  
And why did he drink so much anyway? He couldn't remember much of the past night, except for that he was working up courage for something. Getting wasted seemed the only appropriate way to loosen himself up at the time. But for what…? It didn't reoccur to him, no matter how hard he worked his brain.  
  
Well, it didn't really matter anymore anyway, because here he was – dizzy, with and aching head, cold ass, painful eye sockets and ready to throw up. The smell coming from the bin he was leaning into was unbearable. He got up as fast as the throbbing pain inside his head allowed him to and waggled further down the dark, unlit street.  
  
Halfway between the garbage can and the other the side of the street he threw up, as his stomach tried to get rid of too much poisonous alcohol inside his body. He fell down on hands and knees and continued to empty his stomach on the asphalt until there was nothing left to come out. He breathed heavily and slowly wiped his mouth with his sleeve.  
  
Yup. Another wasted night.  
  
***** 


	2. Coming Home

He guessed it must had been for another hour of pointless crawling and tottering before he finally, by accident, stumbled across a familiar street. And then it still took him another thirty-somewhat minutes to reach the small apartment he shared with Eric. He sluggishly climbed the stairs to the main door of the complex, not wanting to face the undoubtedly disapproving expression on his friend's face upstairs.  
  
But before he could even try to fumble with the keys in order to unlock the door, it was being jerked open. Jack squinted his eyes to dim the bright light in the hall, and tried to identify the black figure standing in front of him. It didn't take long.  
  
"Where the *hell* have you been?! I was so worried about you!" Eric took a step forward, and Jack saw the angry look on his face, one hand still holding to door open, the other clenched aside his hip. He was dressed in a white boxer and matching t-shirt, obviously ready to go to bed.  
  
"I-I… Why are you… How long…" His mouth didn't seem to be able to form coherent sentences. He reached out a shaky hand and found support in the wall next to the door. He tried to stand still, but the world kept wavering in a nauseating movement.  
  
Eric noticed his unstable posture and his expression immediately changed from anger to concern. "Jack? Are you okay, bud?"  
  
Jack could only nod and try to keep his legs straight underneath him instead of wavering to the sides. He took a few steps forward, grabbing Eric's shoulders to keep himself steady. He tried very hard not to breathe in Eric's direction, but the smell of alcohol drifted towards him anyway. For the second time, his expression changed, this time from concern to disparagement.  
  
"You're wasted!" Eric exclaimed, throwing Jack's hands off his shoulders and taking a step backwards. His face showed utter disgust by now. Jack couldn't help but giggle at Eric, standing there in his underwear, hands up in the air.  
  
"Yup, another wasted night for me! Don't you like it? Now you have two alcoholic friends… And guess what – they're brothers too!" He laughed roughly about his own joke, gasping for air afterwards.  
  
Eric turned around without saying another word and calmly walked to the elevators. He pushed the button to go up and leaned into the wall with his back facing Jack. Jack stood stunned for a moment. He could understand Eric's reaction at his stupid remark, but was surprised at the same time to find his friend so cool and impersonal. He knew Eric didn't really appreciate drunk people, but he wasn't aware of the disgust it obviously caused within him.  
  
As his head cleared up a bit, he slowly walked towards the elevators as well and positioned himself in front of his friend.  
  
"I'm-I'm sorry… I shouldn't have said that. Shawn doesn't even drink anymore. That was pretty… low of me."  
  
"Yes, it was."  
  
"Look, it's just… You said you were going to be a bit late, and I just didn't feel like sitting home alone. So I went out. To that new bar the just opened, you know? The Red Rose?"  
  
"Yes, I know." The answer was brief and cold.  
  
"It was nice. Lots of cool people, fancy dancing, you know. The usual stuff. Too bad you weren't there."  
  
"And then you decided to get drunk and get me all freaked out." Eric still wasn't looking him in the eye, and his voice remained flat.  
  
"Well, I didn't really decide to on purpose," Jack lied. "It just… happened, you know." Actually, that wasn't really totally besides the truth, since Jack honestly couldn't remember why he had thought he needed the amount of whine he drank.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Eric mumbled.  
  
"No, seriously – the whine just kept coming and coming, and suddenly I found myself stumbling down the streets, totally wasted. I didn't… feel too well. Kept a garbage can company for a while, before it made me throw up."   
  
He noticed that Eric couldn't help but chuckle. "Bad things come back to bite you, you know." He finally looked up.  
  
"Yeah, I know," Jack chuckled as well, relieved that the air was cleared for a bit. "And it bites pretty hard as well…"  
  
Before Eric could reply, the 'pong' of the elevator emerged from the speaker and the door rolled open. Jack noticed he could walk in a sort or less straight line again. Maybe it had been a combination of dark streets and depressed feeling that had made him feel so sick earlier. In the mean time, they both stepped into the small elevator. The light flickered, causing Jack to feel a little… weird. It seemed like a cheap shot from a B-movie or something, and he felt like aliens could come bursting through the roof any moment now. He could see Eric was feeling a little uncomfortable as well, standing nest to him in his boxers and shirt.  
  
Both men remained silent all the way up to the fifth floor, staring to the greyish floor of the cabin. Just before the doors are about to open, Eric turns his head to face Jack.  
  
"I'm sorry I turned all cold turkey on you downstairs. It's just… I had something planned. And when I got home, you weren't there. So… I was kinda disappointed, you know?"  
  
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You had something planned? Why didn't you say so? I would have stayed at home if I knew you had other plans!"  
  
Eric raised his shoulders and smiled. "It's okay. You're home now, and hey – you're actually making sense again! Just… promise me you'll never go on a blind date with any garbage can again. Deal?"  
  
"Deal," Jack laughed as they exited the elevator and headed towards the front door of the apartment.  
  
***** 


	3. Accidentally

Just before they arrived at the door, Jack felt another wave of headaches coming up. He wavered and grabbed a hold or Eric again, as the earlier dizziness rushed to his head again. But much to Jack's surprise, Eric flinched at Jack's touch and quickly stepped away, causing Jack to find nothing but air. With his hands still clutching for something solid, he fell and smacked to the ground, head first. It produced a dull thud on the linoleum floor.  
  
Eric gasped for air and flew over to his friend. He touched Jack's head carefully with spread fingers, hoping not to find any thick red substance.  
  
"Jack! Are you okay? I'm so sorry, Jack!"   
  
Jack moaned and slowly rolled onto his back, causing the world to spin around him. He hesitantly touched his own head as well, expecting to find at least a huge crack in it, considering the head splitting pain that pierced through his brain right now.   
  
Eric sighed with relief as he saw his friend move. "I believe your head is still in one piece," he concluded quietly. "I'm so sorry! I don't know why I did that! Are you okay?"  
  
Jack lifted his head and tried to raise himself to his elbows. "What do you think?! No, of course I'm not..." Another wave of pain and nauseating spinning inside his head blocked the words in his throat. He choked and only barely kept himself upright. Eric hastily put an arm around Jack's shoulders to support him.  
  
Jack took a deep shuddering breath. "As if I hadn't ruined my brain cells enough for one night... My head hurts like hell!" He touched his head again with care. The pain already lessened a bit, but not enough to assure him everything was okay.  
  
"Seems like all in one piece though. Maybe it's a concussion or something." He looked up at Eric's pale face. "Why'd you do that anyway?"  
  
"I-I... I don't know. You just came at me all of the sudden - I guess I thought you were gonna attack me or something. Drunk people do strange things, you know."  
  
"Well, whatever it was - don't do that again! I don't think I can get up again if I go down now..." He moaned again, trying to work his legs underneath him. Eric held him tight and cautiously pulled him on his feet. Jack waved away his help, but then another flash of pain struck him and his knees buckled. Luckily, Eric was prepared for it and held his friend up by the arms.   
  
"I'm here, bud. I won't let you fall. Okay? Just..." Eric fumbled with one hand to get his keys out of his pocket. "...just try to keep steady while I get the..." He made a digging movement inside his pocket while trying to support Jack with his other hand. "...keys..." He didn't seem to be able to find them, trying to do two things at the same time.  
  
"Come here, let me try..." Jack felt a little awkward doing it, but it was the easiest way to get those keys in their current position. He slid his hand into Eric's pocket and immediately felt the warm pointy metal of his key bunch. He let his hand linger just a second longer than necessary, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of the boxer short. He blushed as he took them out, almost with a sense of regret. He felt Eric shudder and heard him let out a very soft, almost inaudible sigh.  
  
"H-here you go, found them," he stuttered as he handed the keys over to Eric. He shifted his weight a little more from Eric's arms to his own feet, suddenly very uncomfortable with the situation. He couldn't let go of him completely though, because his head was still aching and making the world spin around him every few seconds.   
  
Eric took the keys without saying a word, and bit by bit they shifted closer towards the door. Every step caused a painful pulse in jack's head, but he didn't complain. It took them another five minutes before they finally got inside the apartment.  
  
Eric cautiously guided Jack to the couch and helped him sit down. Then he went to the kitchen and got back with a pack of ice and a towel. He quickly wrapped it up into a package and gently tipped Jack's head backwards, placing the improvised compress on top of it.  
  
"Here, this'll help."   
  
Jack didn't have the strength to do or say anything - he just decided to let it all happen. Soon he noticed how the pain in his head reduced. He closed his eyes, and felt how Eric came to sit next to him and, after a moment, very lightly touched his hand. The warmth of the room and the sensation of Jack's skin touching his made him drowsy.  
  
"Th... thanks. I'm- I'm kinda sleepy... What were... your plans anyway? I'm..." The words in his mind didn't form coherent sentences anymore, so he gave up. He yawned.  
  
"Nothing important. It can wait," Eric whispered. He paused and sighed softly. "It's just that - I have been waiting for so long now. Tonight would have been perfect. Tonight would have been for you, and me..." He took Jack's hand into both of his own. "...and now - it's just another wasted night." He glanced at his friend, hoping that he would show him otherwise.  
  
But Jack was sound asleep.  
  
***** 


	4. Waking Up

Note: Sorry it took me so long to update, but I've been both very busy and very sick... :( This isn't a very long chapter, but I *had* to end it where it does. Be patient, I hope to put chapter 5 up soon! :)  
  
*****  
  
It was dark in the apartment when Jack woke up. The pounding in his head was still painful but not unbearable like last night, and the nauseous feeling was now merely a vague twirl inside his stomach. He realized his was not sitting on the couch, but lying on his back on a bed, covered up to his waist by a blanket and seemed to be only wearing his boxers…  
  
Then he felt something else, something warm resting against his body. After a moment, he realized it was Eric. He felt Eric's arms wrapped around him and his soft breath against his bare neck, and the smooth movement of his chest going up and down against Jack's shoulder. Strangely enough, it seemed very natural.  
  
By impulse, but though as careful as he could, Jack lifted his own arms over Eric and pulled him even closer. Eric moaned in his sleep for a moment. Jack tensed. He didn't wake up.  
  
The sensation of Eric's warm, fairly muscled body touching his - full-length, only separated by a thin layer of cotton – caused another series of spins inside his stomach, but this time, it wasn't the wine…   
  
That's when Jack remembered what he had been working up courage for the other night. He had planned on *telling* Eric – tell him something that would turn both their lives upside down. And that something needed some twenty glasses of courage – because he had been so afraid to tell.  
  
He was afraid of being rejected, of Eric's disgust, or a huge fight with things being said that couldn't be taken back afterwards. He was scared of loosing his brother in crime, his best friend and confidant, because of something that went deeper than that. He was afraid that when he told Eric how he really felt, how he had felt for so long now, that he would loose everything they had build up over the past years.   
  
But he certainly hadn't expected something like this to happen - himself lying in the arms of the man he wanted more than anything in the world, holding onto him so tight. Jack didn't ever want to let him go again. This felt so good. It couldn't be wrong… Right?  
  
But… what if Eric just happened to have fallen asleep in the same bed? Maybe he had been so tired from staying awake all night, getting himself all worked up over his wasted bud and then finally dragging him over to the bedroom, that he had just collapsed on top of him. Maybe it was all a mistake. Maybe he should be even more afraid now – because what if this was the right explanation and Eric woke up, with Jack embracing him like this, feeling utterly disgusted of him?  
  
Eric, blissfully unaware of Jack's mixed up feelings, started to move and yawn next to him. Jack quickly pulled back his arms and closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. He forced his aroused breathing to calm down, as he heard how Eric sat upright in the bed.   
  
"Jack? Are you awake?"  
  
Jack kept quiet. His heart was beating so loudly that he believed even the neighbors could hear it, but Eric didn't seem to notice. He felt a warm hand touching his shoulder.  
  
"Jack, buddy? I know it's a Saturday, but its four P.M. already – how about some breakfast, huh?" Eric yawned again. Jack felt how Eric bent over him and stretched out one arm.  
  
"Hmmm…" Jack tried to moan as sleepy and disinterested as he could, while his heart was racing and more words got stuck in his throat. He felt how something of his started to move underneath the blanket, and he desperately tried to suppress it. Bad, bad timing!  
  
He carefully peeked through his eyelids, but couldn't see a thing, as it was still dark in the room. Then, a burst of light lit up the room and Eric moved back to the other side of the bed. Jack closed his eyes and let out an inaudible sigh of disappointment and relief at the same time, while Eric jumped out of bed - cheerful as ever.  
  
"C'mon Jack, wakey-wakey!" Jack still moaned for a bit and stayed put.  
  
"Aah, I get it – you're still dreaming 'bout little Ms. Garbage Can, aren't you?" Eric grinned. "Well, when you're finished with the luuuv-making, come join me, okay?" Jack heard how Eric put on his jeans and left the bedroom.  
  
He took a few trembling breaths and tried very hard not to think of Eric's body next to his just a few minutes ago. It was a mistake. It must have been. It would be too much of a coincidence if Eric felt the same way for him. It couldn't be. No.  
  
And so, Jack got up as well and put on a clean pair of jeans, feeling even more miserable than he did last night.  
  
***** 


	5. Preparations

Thank you so much for the reviews so far! Actually, I never expected to receive that much appreciation, since English isn't my native language - I always thought I really sucked at writing English fanfics. I also haven't got a beta-reader, so if you have any comments concerning - for instance - grammar, don't hesitate to review me. Anyway, thanx again!  
  
*****  
  
When Jack stepped into the living room, one look out the window showed him it was already starting to get dark again. He sighed deeply. This seemed like it was going to be another wasted night.  
  
While he approached the couch, he noticed Eric shoving some pans around in the kitchen, and suddenly he felt his stomach roar. He stopped and hesitated for a moment whether he was going to lend his friend a hand or not, but ultimately decided not to - only the thought of seeing Eric wearing nothing but jeans and the same tight shirt he had worn last night, made something grow painfully quick down below.  
  
Stop it, he told himself. Not gonna happen, you know. The whole bed scene - it was an accident. Lay down, soldier.  
  
Suddenly, he heard Eric approaching the living room, and he quickly dove for the couch. He was just in time to hide his arousal behind some pillows, as he casually tried to lie down between them. Eric walked towards Jack, who was panting lightly and reaching for the remote on the table.  
  
"Hey, you awake? Was about time - you slept for twelve hours straight! Are you feeling better now?"  
  
Jack swallowed at the sight of Eric and desperately tried to calm down his breathing. "Eh... yeah, I feel much better, man." He hesitated. "Th-thanks for eh..." He paused, feeling very awkward. "For carrying me to the bedroom and everything..."  
  
Eric raised an eyebrow is his typical way and shrugged. "Well, yeah, no thanks, bud. It's just - you were really wasted and I figured you'd probably feel better if you woke up in a bed instead of hanging on the couch... Right?"  
  
"Right." Jack sighed. "So, are you okay in the kitchen? Should I help you with anything?"  
  
"Nah, you know me - princess of Cooking Land," Eric laughed. "I'll be okay - you just make sure you're ready."   
  
"Ready? For what?" But Eric had already turned around and heading back to the kitchen.   
  
"Hey, I asked you something, princess!" Jack raised his voice.  
  
"Just wait and see," Eric replied with a mysterious smirk, and disappeared into the kitchen. Those four words made Jack throw away the remote and grab an extra pillow - just to make sure...  
  
****  
  
Jack was getting impatient. He had waited for over two hours now, and still 'breakfast' wasn't ready. He had watched some TV, slumbered for a bit on the couch, even did some sit-ups - but still there was no food. Whenever he knocked on the kitchen door and asked if he should help, he only got a mumbling response - but the door wouldn't open.  
  
He decided to try one last time. "Eric, it's six-thirty, maybe we should skip breakfast and go straight to dinner?" No response. "C'mon, I'm starving man! Hurry up, will ya?"  
  
A faint response and some fumbling with plates sounded from behind the door. "Just a minute..."  
  
Jack sighed. "You already said that - like - an hour ago? That's one *plus* fifty-nine minutes, Eric! Get moving!"   
  
Silence.  
  
Jack growled and paced over to the bedroom. He could just as well get himself dressed properly, while Eric could finish ding *whatever* he was doing in there.  
  
He opened his side of the closet and grabbed the first shirt he could find. When he pulled it out, it turned out to be the oldest shirt he owned, all worn-out and in an indefinable greenish color. It was almost too tight when he put it on, but he didn't bother taking out another shirt. This was the best Eric was going to get for get him worked like this. He quickly checked his reflection in the mirror and ran a hand through his hair.   
  
'No *getting ready* tonight, partner,' Jack grunted to himself. 'This is all you'll get from me.'   
  
He turned to the bedroom door and opened it... not. One look at the lock let him know that the key was taken out, and the doorknob didn't cooperate. He banged on the door.  
  
"Hey, Eric - what are you doing? Don't joke around now, buddy. I've had enough of your freakin' weirdness today!"  
  
Quietness all around.  
  
He started banging on the door a lot louder. "Damn you, Eric! What is this?! First you're starving me, now you lock me up! What's next? You're gonna go 'Scream' on me and try to kill me?" He paused, as he heard a faint sound on the other side of the door. "Eric, are you listening? I'm not taking any more of this crap, hear me? *Let*" Bang! "*me*" Bang! "*out!*"  
  
No response.  
  
Jack turned around, and then back with a swing to kick the door. "*Eric!* Dammit! This isn't funny man!" He panted heavily, and kicked the door one last time. "SCREW YOU, ERIC! I'm gonna climb out the window and come to kill you if you don't open this door *right now!*" He took a step back, waiting for the last time.  
  
For one moment, nothing happened. Then Jack heard a key turn in the lock, and the door slowly opened. He got ready to storm into the living room and choke Eric to death - but stopped after setting just one step. His eyes widened with surprise.  
  
"E-Eric... My... what did you do...?"  
  
***** 


	6. Surprisingly Awkward

A/N part 1 ~ If you like this fic, but wanna read something a little more… exciting ;), try my other Jack/Eric fic, called 'Inside The Closet'. Warning: it has a serious R rating for mature themes, but I really like how it turned out!  
  
And thanx again for the reviews. *blush* I'm grateful for every one of them, so please keep them coming! At this point, I'm pretty sure where the story is going, but suggestions are always welcome to give me a different look on things.  
  
*****  
  
Jack gasped at the sight of their living room. Actually, he wasn't even sure whether it was their living room or not.  
  
The room itself was dark, with hundreds of candles all over the place. There was a faint smell of vanilla hanging in the air, and Jack could distinguish some rosebuds spread on the floor. In the middle of the room, space was made for a small table set for two. And behind that table stood Eric. In suit.  
  
Jack almost fainted at the sight of him. It wasn't the first time he had seen Eric in a suit, but this one looked really well on him. It looked a bit… Italian, he thought - pitch-black, with a plain white shirt underneath and no tie. Casual, but very sophisticated, and above all - *very* sexy.   
  
Unlike him. Suddenly, Jack was very aware of his own shabby outfit and he could feel the blood rushing to his face and his heart pounding inside his chest. He had made this horrible scene, cursing Eric and hitting the door, while Eric was setting up all… this. What was he thinking! He felt so ashamed, and all his mixed-up emotions of the moment blocked every word in his throat.   
  
"E-Eric… I… How did you…? When…? And that suit! I-you…" he stuttered.   
  
"Bienvenue chez 'C'est Eric'," Eric said with a grin. "Voulez-vous diner avec moi ce soir?"  
  
Jack's jaw dropped. "F-French? When did you… How…?" He felt incredibly goofy, repeating himself over and over again.  
  
"Well, that's pretty much all I know actually, but I thought it would make a nice impression," Eric replied and looked down at his hands. "Ehm, anyway, what I asked was: 'Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?' And I'm so sorry I kept you waiting for so long. It just took time to prepare all the food and set the table and lit the candles and-"  
  
Jack finally regained consciousness and interrupted him. "Wait a minute - *you're* sorry? *I* should be the one to apologize! If I had known I was waiting for all… this, I would have waited even ten hours if you wanted me to!" Jack exclaimed, and then paused awkwardly. "A-And I would have put on something a little more… appropriate."  
  
Eric rounded the table. "Jack, you're just fine the way you are! Just because I look like-" He took a model pose and produced a low voice. "Bond, James Bond-" Jack chuckled.  
  
"-that doesn't mean you have to do the same, man! I mean, how could you? You didn't even know about all this till just a minute ago!"  
  
"Yeah, but you told me to get ready, right? I should have suspected something by then," Jack replied with a small voice.  
  
Eric smiled. "Jack, I already told you – you are *just* fine the way you are. Now get your ass the hell over here, dinner's starting to get cold!"  
  
Jack – still not feeling totally reassured, but glad that the awkward moment was gone - walked towards the table, carefully avoiding knocking over the candles on the floor. In the mean time, Eric headed over to the kitchen. As Jack sat down, Eric returned carrying a bottle of wine in one hand and two plates with the other.   
  
While Eric put them down, Jack couldn't help but just stare at him. "And where did you learn *that*?" he asked in amazement.  
  
"Learned what?" Eric said, fluently opening the bottle and filling both their glasses with a considerable amount of red wine.   
  
"Well, for instance, carrying two plates with one hand… Or the way you handle that bottle…" Jack looked down at his plate, which was filled with all sorts of colorful food. It smelled absolutely delicious. "Or cooking like this for that matter?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, well… That's surprise number two – I took special cooking classes a while ago. Well, actually it's not really cooking class – they teach you to be a waiter, too. It's more of an etiquette class really… But it was really awesome to do." He put down the bottle and adjusted the table cloth a bit, then picked at an imaginary spot.  
  
Jack sighed. He really had to get this of his chest. "Eric, I'm so sorry I ruined the beginning of this night, and I…" His voice died away, and he fidgeted for a bit with his fork and knife. Dammit!  
  
Why couldn't he he find the right words to say to him? It felt as if there was a big knot inside his throat, keeping his mouth from saying anything that made sense. And he wanted to say so much - he wanted to say how wonderful their apartment looked; he wanted to tell Eric how much he appreciated what he had done tonight. How it could be just perfect… He wanted to tell Eric about the butterflies in his stomach, about that warm feeling each time their eyes met, how he just wanted to shove all that food aside, jump over the table and rip off his clothes right here, right now-  
  
Eric put the cork back on the bottle of wine. "It's no big deal, Jack. Really."  
  
Jack snapped from his fantasy and could feel himself turn red. He just hoped that the candlelight wasn't bright enough to show the tortured look in his eyes. Or his soldier down there for that matter, although safely hidden below the table.  
  
"So… are we going to eat or not?" Jack quickly switched subject, with a smile that felt just a little too plastic. "I'm starving man, and this just looks so delicious!" He enthusiastically poked in the food with his fork, although he wasn't the slightest bit hungry.  
  
Eric cleared his throat and raised his glass. "Ehm… Actually I would like to make a toast first." Jack hastily put down his fork and raised his glass as well. "O-of course," he stuttered.  
  
Eric cleared his throat again. "I would like to say… that I am very happy to know you, and to be your best friend, and-" He paused, raising his glass a little higher. "Anyway. To a wonderful dinner, and let's just hope it isn't another wasted night."  
  
Jack cocked his head and studied Eric's face. What was *that* about? Could it possibly be…? But Eric only showed a slight disappointed look. No.  
  
Jack felt his heart break for the thousandth time since he had allowed his feelings for Eric. It just wasn't mutual. A hard, cold, but true fact. So he had to make the best of it, right?  
  
So he couldn't do anything else but agree as they brought their glasses together. "To not another wasted night."  
  
"Is that English?" Eric said with a dead serious expression, while he sat down at his side of the table.  
  
"I haven't got a clue. You're going to be the teacher here, remember? You should know, man."   
  
"That's *princess* for you, buddy," Eric said with his mouth full, pointing his knife at Jack.  
  
Jack laughed. "You really gotta decide what you want with your life, don't you think? First weatherman, then teacher, cook, princess… Oh, wait, isn't there a school for all that?" Jack pretended to seriously ponder the thought. "Er- No?"  
  
The tension slowly faded, as they both ate their way through the huge amount of food Eric had prepared for them. Although Jack hadn't been hungry, he ate more than usual and complimented Eric with his cooking skills. They made some more small-talk, carefully avoiding subjects that could lead them to deeper things.  
  
Then finally, they ran out of food…  
  
*****  
  
A/N part 2 ~ I'm not happy at all with how this turned out… Actually, I had a much better chapter almost finished, but I accidentally lost it and the second time I tried, this is what came out. *rolls eyes* I know, that sounds weird, but that's the way I write my stories. Forgive me and please be patient! The end is in sight… ;) 


	7. Dessert

A/N 1 ~ Yes, yes! Can you feel it coming? ;)  
  
*****  
  
"That was absolutely the best food I've ever eaten in my whole life!" Jack leaned back with a content look on his face. He overlooked the table, which was covered with empty plates and bowls. Their glasses softly reflected the few lights from the candles that were still burning throughout the room. The half darkness, combined with the vanilla odour drifting in the room, made his stomach tingle in a strange way. There still was some tension lingering in the air, but now it felt… different, somehow.   
  
Eric smiled at Jack. "Was it worth starving for?"  
  
Jack sighed. "Ab-so-lu-te-ly! Every single crumb has found a safe home right in here." He slowly rubbed his stomach. "You – are – the – best. Bestest of the best! I think you ought to stay with that cooking career plan," he added with a grin.  
  
Eric continued to smile, without saying a word. The tingling sensation inside Jack's stomach became stronger. Jack's grin swiftly faded, as he could think of nothing else to do but to stare back into Eric's deep gaze. It was hypnotizing, and it felt like he was in a never-ending place, where Jack would love to spend the rest of his life in.   
  
But suddenly, Eric got up and rounded the table, although never loosing contact with Jack's eyes. It startled him, and he anxiously tried to mask that. "The… the candles… they're going out… S-shouldn't we- and the plates…" Jack stumbled.   
  
"You know, I'm still missing something," Eric said softly as he came closer, ignoring Jack's words. "Something like, a dessert…" He unbuttoned his jacket and let it fall to the floor. The white shirt hugged his tight body – he looked even better underneath it all than Jack could've ever imagined.  
  
He wanted nothing more than for Eric to come closer, but was scared at the same time. This could be the turning point he had been waiting for for so long now - or just another of Eric's jokes… Was it? Was he just playing with him? Should he put him off? Jack shifted uncomfortably on his chair and broke their mutual gaze.  
  
"We-we have some ice-cream in the- the… ehm…" Eric took Jack's hand and pulled him of his seat. He felt like he was dreaming. Please, don't let this be a nightmare, he prayed desperately. Please…  
  
"Fridge?" Eric wrapped one arm around Jack's waist and pulled him closer. Jack's heart was racing at the mere touch of Eric's hand on his back. He didn't dare to look up, so afraid to find Eric laughing at him for actually believing this meant… more. He nodded.  
  
Then, Eric cupped his chin and gently lifted his face, tenderly forcing Jack to look him in the eyes again. "Ice-cream isn't exactly what I had in mind, Jack. Not by far," he whispered. Eric's lips were now almost touching his, and Jack could feel him breathing deeply. "I need something better than that." His lips brushed against Jack's while speaking.  
  
Suddenly, Jack didn't care anymore what this could or couldn't be. He wrapped his arms tightly around Eric's upper body and covered his lips with his own. Eric immediately responded, moving his hand to his neck and pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Jack tasted some sweet whine, as he moved his hands down Eric's back and started to pull the shirt up. Then Eric broke their kiss, slightly out of breath.  
  
"What is it?" Jack worriedly studied Eric's face for a moment in silence, his hands still halfway up Eric's back.  
  
"Are you… Is this…?" This time, it was Eric who couldn't find the words. He looked at Jack with a combination of surprise, fear and confusion.   
  
"Real?" Jack finished his words with a smile. He answered with another kiss. "Yes." He pulled Eric's shirt off with one fluent movement and then murmured against his lips.  
  
"No more wasted nights from now on… Promise."  
  
END  
  
*****  
  
A/N 2 ~ Aah, you all wanna know what happens now, huh? Me too! One problem: I usually don't do sequels. But maybe, if you can talk me into it… Who knows? ;) 


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